The Playbook
by itainthardtryin
Summary: Brittany and Santana take life lessons from Barney Stinson and make their own Playbook, before going to a club and trying them out to see if they work. Written for day three of Brittana week on Tumblr. (Not technically a crossover as such but inspired by HIMYM)


Santana walks into their bedroom just as Brittany is finishing her hair - her make-up is already sitting perfectly, she has the sexiest, tightest black dress on that Santana has ever seen and at least eighty percent of her legs are showing. If that doesn't work tonight then Santana does not know what will.

"Oh hey," Brittany says casually, when she notices her girlfriend leaning against the doorframe staring at her with lustful eyes. "Are you ready?"

"When you are," Santana replies. She looks Brittany up and down and frowns. "Are you sure you want to do this? I mean, I could quite happily stay in tonight and just watch a movie you and then..."

"Santana, this was _your_ idea!" Brittany interrupts. "It's going to be so much fun. Don't be a spoil sport. We're twenty-one, it's Saturday night and we're in the greatest city on earth. There is no way in hell I'm letting you sit in!"

"Okay, okay, but if anyone goes one step too far with this then I am _not_ going to be happy," Santana says, walking over to Brittany. "I can't promise that I won't use violence."

Brittany smirks, puts her hands around Santana's waist and pulls their bodies close together. "My very own personal bodyguard," Brittany purrs. "Very sexy." Santana's eyes flick between Brittany's lips and her eyes, and then back to her lips, but just as she leans in, Brittany pulls away. "Save that for later," she says. "Believe me, it'll make this so much better."

Santana pouts a little in protest, but when she thinks about it, she knows Brittany's right. "Can we go now?"

"Yep!" Brittany exclaims. "After you though... your ass looks amazing in that dress," she flirts.

"You're going to be the death of me before this night's even started," Santana says, frustrated.

* * *

They only live two subway stops from Hunter's so they start there first, proudly flashing their now legal I.D. at the bouncers on the way in through the door. It's a straight club, so their targets are going to have to be men, which makes Santana happy on her part because she knows nothing is ever going to happen, but when she thinks of Brittany chatting up a guy, it makes her slightly uneasy. It's not Brittany that she doesn't trust, it's the wandering eyes of the scumbags of New York City that she doesn't trust. She'd be lying though if she wasn't even a little bit excited of the thought of some guy thinking his luck's in, that he's going to get to take a beautiful blonde home, only to have her girlfriend come over and claim what's rightfully hers. It's driving her wild already and they haven't even started.

"Bar?" Brittany shouts over the music, and points to the other side of the room where the bar is reasonably empty. Santana nods, and Brittany takes her by the hand leading her. The great thing about holding hands with Brittany in a straight club is that they can do it and guys will still just think they're best friends, so it won't throw off their game. They reach the bar and lean up against it, instantly getting served.

Santana pays the barman, and they lift their drinks, turning around and leaning their backs against the bar as they survey the room to choose their first target. "Who's first? Me or you?" Santana asks. Brittany looks around the room and then suddenly smiles. "You," she replies. "With that guy over by the seats."

Santana looks up, and sure enough there's a well dressed guy who must only be their age or just slightly older. He's standing alone, checking his phone compulsively, probably waiting on someone or looking like he's waiting for someone so he doesn't look awkward. "Okay," she says. "I can do that. Start easy. Which one?"

Brittany's face narrows in concentration as she thinks hard about who she should use on this guy. "The Sam Evans," she says, trying not to laugh.

"Britt! People aren't drunk enough for that yet!"

"Would you rather try it out with a sober guy, or a drunk guy who can't really control his hands anymore?"

"Okay, you have a point," Santana replies. "But jeez, you're starting me off easy!"

"You can do it. I believe in you," Brittany reassures. "Remember, a win only counts if you get his number or if he leans in for the kiss, and if he leans in for the kiss, I'll be right here watching and will come and show him that you're not his to claim."

"Got it," Santana confirms. "Oh God, I can't believe this whole thing was my idea."

"Go, you're gonna be great!"

"Okay, I'm going. Love you," Santana reminds her.

"I love you, too."

Santana grabs Brittany's hand briefly and gives it a gentle squeeze, before dropping it and making her way over to her unsuspecting victim. She's about two-thirds of the way over when he notices her, and she's about five steps from him when he realizes she's coming over to _him._ She can see him visibly panic, and she knows this is going to be a breeze.

"Hi," she says. "Waiting for someone?"

His eyes roam her body from head to toe and back again and something inside her blooms with pride knowing she's still got it, even after just a few seconds.

"Um, maybe," he replies.

"I'm Santana," she says, extending her hand for him to shake. "Tony," he replies, shaking her hand firmly.

"It's very nice to meet you, Tony. So, what's a guy like you doing in a club like this?" she flirts.

"Just waiting for some friends then we're heading somewhere else," he replies.

"Starting the night right then. That's what I like to see. So..." Santana steadies herself because she's about to start The Sam Evans, and she's pretty sure it's going to take about a minute to work. "...what do you do for a living?"

"I'm still a student, but do a little freelance writing for money." He's a little more open now, which helps. "You?" And there it is. The invitation. Sam Evans, win or lose rests on you.

"Well I'm a student right now, but a few years ago I dropped out and became a stripper. Did that for about a year, realised it wasn't for me though." Tony's eyes are wide in shock, and yep, this is definitely going to work. "So I'm back at school, but you never know what the future will bring. I'm open to anything." Santana thinks Tony's about to drop dead or run, she can't decide which.

"I'd like to see that," he flirts back, and a smirk appears on her face because yes, she's definitely won, and quickly too. God bless Trouty Mouth. Across the bar, Brittany watches on laughing as she sees this guy go through the stages from shock to acceptance. She swears she could physically note the moment that Santana dropped the "I used to be a stripper" bomb. She keeps watching, and sees Santana hand her phone over to him. Santana's eyes briefly find Brittany across the club, and she raises her eyebrow as if to say "one nil to me". He hands the phone back to her and she leans in, kissing him softly on the cheek before walking away.

Brittany watches Santana make her way back over the dancefloor, and watches Tony follow Santana's every move, never taking his eyes off her ass and legs and she walks. She doesn't blame him one bit, and she's not jealous either because Santana's walking back to her. She's hers and she has absolutely nothing to be jealous of. These guys can look all they want, but at the end of tonight it's Brittany that's going to get to take Santana home and do things that these guys can only _dream_ of.

"Got it," Santana smirks, waving her phone in Brittany's face. "So easy."

"Okay, so The Sam Evans works. But we knew that anyway," Brittany says. "It's the others that are going to be a challenge."

"Yeah, and it's you're turn now, so good luck babe!"

"Oh, I don't need luck. Which one and who?" Brittany asks confidently.

Santana scours the area, trying to pick an unsuspecting guy for Brittany to target. "Okay got him," she says after a few seconds. "See that group of guys over there?" Brittany nods. "Your target is the guy in the striped t-shirt, and your play is... The Rachel Berry."

"Oh, you are so not playing fair."

"You could have given me the Rachel Berry but nope, you chose the Sam Evans. Your own fault really."

"I was breaking you in gently!" Brittany laughs. "Thanks for doing the same!"

"Baby, if those legs don't get you at least his number then he's definitely gay. And even if he is gay, then The Rachel Berry will probably get his number anyway... so either way, you really have no excuse."

"Fiiiine, I'm going," Brittany says, making her way over. She glances back at Santana a few times laughing to herself at the satisfied grin on Santana's face. Brittany has to really think on her feet if this one is going to work.

"Hey, I'm Brittany," she says to the guy, who's standing on the outside of the group on his own. "You look lonely."

"Well not anymore," he replies, smiling.

"That's good," Brittany says. "So, what's your name?"

"Danny," he tells her. And God, this is going to be so easy.

"No way! Oh my God, this is so meant to be! I've just finished my first off-broadway role, guess who I was? Sandy in Grease! And you're Danny, this is just so meant to be," Brittany rambles. She notices Danny trying to get a word in somewhere, but she's playing The Rachel Berry and there's no room for interruption. She now speaks in paragraphs.

"You know I've been singing since I was three? My dads raised me on Broadway. By the time I was seven I'd seen every show there was, and auditoned for some too. I was the lead in every school musical until I graduated a few years ago, and then I went to NYU. God, NYU was amazing, they taught me so much and that's how I got the role of Sandy, I mean I know it's not Broadway but it's the the step before it and Kelly, this girl in my class, just got picked up for her first Broadway role, so I'm almost there y'know?"

"Wow, you're... definitely... passionate," Danny remarks.

"Well you have to be don't you? You're not going to get anywhere in this world, in New York, _especially _in the world of musical theatre if you don't have passion. You have to eat, sleep and dream Broadway or it's just not worth it. You have to be all in or nothing. There's no in between. Just gotta go for it y'know?"

"It's really cool to see someone so focused on their dreams," Danny tells her. It's hard to tell if he's interested or not.

"Thanks," Brittany says, shyly. She needs to figure out how to play the rest of the conversation to make this work. "You should come see me sometime," she flirts. "Y'know... on Broadway."

"I think I'd like that," he says, and Brittany tries her very hardest not to celebrate on the spot. Who knew that The Rachel Berry would work?! She takes her phone out for him to put in his number, and as he does she looks over at Santana who isn't looking so smug anymore. She's just laughing a little and shaking her head, probably in disbelief that Brittany actually managed to get it to work.

Danny hands her the phone back and she puts it away. "Thanks, Danny," she says, before walking away. No kiss on the cheek. Santana is laughing as Brittany makes her way back over to her beside the bar, but there's also something else there - something like relief or love. Whatever it is, Brittany likes it.

"One all now. It's a draw."

"Oh, it's on. Get me someone else right now!"

Brittany takes another look around the room and spots a woman standing a few people down from them at the bar. "Her."

Santana looks a little scared. "I thought we were just hitting on guys? No girls. Well, at least not in here."

"You just challenged me with The Rachel Berry and I succeeded, so I'm challenging you to chat up a woman in a straight bar... using... The Quinn Fabray."

"You're basically setting me up for a fail already," Santana says. "Really Britt, this is never going to work!"

"You'll never know if you don't try." Santana doesn't bother to reply. Instead she confidently lifts her drink from the bar and walks the few steps down to the woman Brittany picked out.

When she gets there she pushes her way to the front of the bar and leans up against it, sighing heavily. She downs the rest of her drink dramatically and slams the empty glass down on the counter. She then clicks her fingers at the bartender, trying to get their attention.

"Are you okay?" the woman asks, observing Santana's stressed out nature. "You seem a bit... tense."

"Just exhausted," Santana replies. "I'm making the most of being out of the house on my own."

"That bad?"

"Single mom," Santana says, pointing to herself. "The dad wants nothing to do with Quinn, so it's just us two." She feels slightly weird using Quinn's name as the name as her non-existent child, but it's easier than trying to think on her feet. "Managed to get a friend to babysit tonight, so I'm taking full advantage."

"Wow, that must be hard," the woman says, sympathetically. And now Santana has to steer the conversation in the right direction.

"It makes it hard to be able to go out to bars and find a girl to date, y'know? It kind of makes dating nearly impossible."

"I know what it's like. My best friend has a four year old, and her love life has just died a death. One night stand, and suddenly she's in the world of diapers and pacifiers, instead of shots and sex. It's sad. But it's good you're getting a night to let go a little."

"Yeah, I definitely needed it," Santana lies.

"You look like you need more than a night out," the woman and says, and shit, she's definitely flirting. Holy shit. The single mother thing definitely works. "We should... find somewhere a little more private." Maybe it works a little too well.

"I don't even know your name," is all Santana can think to say. Panic bells are starting to go off in her head. This woman is dangerously close to making a move, and all Santana wants is Brittany to come and save her.

"Erin," the woman says. "And you are...?"

"Um, Santana."

"Well, um Santana, now we've been properly introduced, what do you say to going somewhere a little more private?" Erin moves closer and puts her arm around Santana's waist, dangerously close to where only Brittany's hands should be.

"One more drink first?" Santana suggests, trying to get the bartender's attention again.

"I have plenty of alcohol in my apartment if that's what you're worried about," Erin says seductively in Santana's ear. Oh God, where is Brittany?

"I- I-," Santana stammers, and just then she hears a familiar voice and relaxes completely.

"Santana? Hey!" Brittany chirps. "Oh my God, I haven't seen you in so long!"

Santana looks confused but goes along with it. "Wow... yeah... um... Brittany, right?"

"Yeah, from McKinley! Wow, it must be four years since I last saw you," Brittany lies. She looks at Erin and then back to Santana. "Sorry, am I... interrupting something?"

Erin looks uncomfortable, but Santana speaks. "No, no, we were just chatting while I was waiting for a drink."

"Well I have a whole round down at the table with the girls, if you want to join us?" Brittany asks, and Santana's never been so thankful for an excuse to get away from someone ever.

"I'd like that," Santana says, turning to Erin. "Hey, it was nice meeting you."

"Um... can I at least give you my number?" Erin suggests. "Maybe we could meet up again... somewhere less crowded?" Santana knows what she means, and she's never wanted anything less. "I'll give you mine," Santana says, and takes Erin's phone off her. She puts her number in but changes the last digit. "There," she says, handing the phone back. "See you around, yeah?"

Brittany reaches out and takes Santana by the hand, leading her towards the exit of the club.

"We're leaving right now, Britt. Right. Now." Santana tells her.

"Not having fun anymore?" Brittany asks playfully, nudging Santana in the ribs.

"No, not at all. I almost had some woman's hand on my ass, and the only hands I want on my ass are yours. This was a dumb idea, okay?"

"I thought it was pretty fun."

"You would, because all you had to do was blabber on about Broadway! But I don't care, I'm done with this night. Can we go home?" Santana asks. "Please?"

Brittany knows she really does want to go home, and something inside her chest feels triumphant but she'll wait a little longer before sharing that part with Santana.

"Okay, home it is."

* * *

They're barely through the door when Santana slams it behind them, takes her heels off and pushes Brittany back against the door, sandwiching her there with her body. Her eyes fill with lust, and Brittany just smiles. "I've wanted you all night. From the second we set foot in that club, I've wanted to bring you home and get you naked."

"Well then, what are you waiting for?" Brittany replies, desperately.

"God, I love you." Santana leans forward and kisses Brittany with everything she has. Brittany's hands reach around to the back of Santana's dress, searching for the zipper to get her girlfriend out of all and any clothes she's currently wearing.

An hour later, they're lying sweaty and naked on the floor of their living room, not even having made it to the bedroom - Brittany says that can be for round two. Santana is still trying to catch her breath when Brittany turns to her, smiling.

"And that's how you do The Brittany Pierce," she smirks, like she always does when she knows something Santana doesn't.

"What?"

"And it really, definitely works."

"You need to explain yourself right now," Santana says, leaning up on one elbow to look down at her girlfriend.

"Step One," Brittany starts. "Get my super hot girlfriend to agree that Barney Stinson is a genius, and that we should make a Playbook."

"That was so not your idea! I brought it up!"

"Did you really?" Brittany asks, and gives Santana a minute to think back. Two weeks ago they were lying together on the couch watching How I Met Your Mother, and Brittany had mentioned how much fun Barney's Playbook would be to have in real life. Santana had thought it was her who mentioned it, but no, from the word go, it had been Brittany.

"No way," Santana says in disbelief, as she realizes where this is going.

"Step Two: get my super hot girlfriend to agree on a night where we can try out our own plays, based on people we know."

Santana starts laughing. "You little-"

"Step Three," Brittany interrupts. "Wear the hottest dress I own that I know drives you wild."

Santana just shakes her head, laughing.

"Step Four: Get you chatting up guys, and get me chatting up guys, so you realize how much they suck and how much you want me."

"I already knew how much I-"

"Ah, ah! Stop interrupting when I'm telling you all about my genius plan!" Brittany scolds, and then leans up slightly to give Santana a soft peck on the lips.

"Step Five: while you're chatting up a guy, get my friend Erin from work to stand a little down the bar waiting for you to approach her."

Santana's mouth drops open.

"Step Six: Get Erin to be forward and offer to take you home, knowing you'd decline right away and want to go home with me instead."

"You didn't."

"Step Seven: interrupt your conversation with Erin and take you home right away," Brittany boasts. "And Step Eight: have super hot lady sex on the floor of the apartment with my super hot girlfriend."

"I can't believe you! So you planned this whole thing?!"

"From start to finish," Brittany says. "Awesome, right?" Santana just stares at her in disbelief. "You really are a genius, Britt."

"I know," she says proudly. "Now, how about round two?"


End file.
